15
by kamwashere
Summary: As if being a fifteen year-old guy who likes guys isn't bad already. Being a fifteen year-old guy who gets pregnant by a guy is infinitely worse. Oh God, Dean is going to murder him. [AO3 work ID number: 13694889]
1. Chapter 1

**SAM**

There was a boy inside the library, except for Sam, on a weekend. Which was something you don't see every day. Currently, the only people here are the librarian, the boy, a couple that are definitely making out behind the bookshelves (who are, and Sam is ashamed to know about this, his gym teacher and history teacher. Also, ew.), some girls who don't even go to this school and Sam himself. The school's library is open on the weekends for students who wants to take extra credit or just have an advanced review on upcoming lessons. Sam Winchester likes to come in here after finishing his chores or helping his brother, Dean with his work at Uncle Bobby's yard. Occasionally, there are some students but none of them frequent here just like Sam. He comes here all the time that the librarian, Mrs. Harvelle, becomes one of his closest friends (and someone who would actually talk to him), which was not an easy feat.

The boy's name is Gabriel Shurley. Sam knows this because, frankly, who doesn't? Gabriel Shurley is renowned for his meticulously cultivated pranks, his epiphany for candies and sweets, and his carefree, gives-zero-fucks attitude. He was one of those people who Sam immediately dislikes, mainly because of his baggy jeans and a grin that shows no teeth. But he was also one of those people that spikes Sam's curiosity.

Gabriel Shurley is trouble, and Sam wanted nothing to do with him.

'Psst.' hissed a voice coming from the shelf just behind Sam. Sam continued reading his book about religious studies and paid no attention to his surroundings.

 _But though the symbol of the stars has been thus interpreted by Christ, the interpretation itself has been the subject of considerable discussion. Much difficulty has been experienced in identifying the angels of the Seven Churches; and there have been various conjectures as to the station which they occupied, and the duties which they performed._

'Psst!' the voice whispers once again, derisive and impatient. Sam wonders why Mrs. Harvelle hasn't barked at this person yet. Surely this has annoyed her now.

 _The Scriptures nowhere teach that each Christian community is under the care of its own angelic guardian; neither is it to be supposed that an angel represents the ministry of a Church, for one symbol would not be interpreted by_ -

'Hey!' the voice, which clearly belongs to a guy, spoke loudly. Sam exhaled, irritated. This guy is seriously interrupting his review. The person he's trying to grab attention for almost, _wow_ , five minutes now, is clearly deaf. Can they not hear his constant hoot?

'Quiet!' Mrs. Harvelle calls out sharply. Sam can feel her terrifying gaze at the back of his head, scanning the room. He turns around, looks at Mrs. Harvelle, and grimaces. She gives him a crisp, but understanding nod. Sam returns his attention to his book and started reading. He didn't realise that he wasn't alone, when- _tap, tap_. Sam held back an annoyed sigh. Damn, he can't catch a break.

 _Tap, tap, tap_.He breathes deeply. Nope.

 _Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap_ -

Sam snapped, 'Sorry, but can you stop?' He doesn't tear his gaze away from his book. He's not gonna give that guy the satisfaction.

'Not until you look at me, sugar.' He frantically looks up, and finds himself looking at a very pleased, and very mischievous-looking Gabriel Shurley. _'Uh, oh,_ ' was Sam's immediate thought. Gabriel Shurley is short, _too_ short. He's a senior but Sam is taller than him (he's taller than most people, so he's not surprised.) Gabriel Shurley always wore a puke-green denim jacket and a toothless smile. He has light-brown- almost blond, slightly wavy hair and hazel brown eyes. His face is small, delicate, and angel-like and that smile fools no one.

'What do you want?' Sam glared at the older boy. This triggered one of Gabriel's famous shit-eating grin. Sam's internal 'fight-or-flight' response has activated.

'Oh, you know,' Gabriel Shurley twirled his curls, and batted his eyes. 'It's easy-peasy, really. I-'

'Just say it.' The younger boy says, already tired of this conversation.

'Okay, so,' Gabriel Shurley leans towards him, making Sam clear his throat. 'You know how Metatron and Naomi always makes out right over there?' Gabriel stood up and leans impossibly closer to him that Sam could almost taste the chocolate from his mouth. He gulps, and looks over where the older boy was pointing his finger at. Right, the infamous fifth row. Also known as the Boink Zone.

Their school isn't really creative with nicknames.

'Basically, I want to expose them and I need your help. 'Gabriel Shurley breathes over his ear, making him shiver. Sam turns his head over him, which was a big mistake. Gabriel Shurley, eyes sparkling, was so close that their noses are almost touching. The younger boy gripped loose wood under his desk. Sam cleared his inexplicably dry throat and luckily, found words. 'First, can you scoot?'

Gabriel Shurley leaned back and takes his seat, still grinning widely. 'Second, can't you call them by their last names? Cause it's really awkward hearing their first names. Lastly, no.'

'C'mon, please? You're the only person here. Plus, it'd be really awkward to ask Ellen.'

'Nope.' Sam goes back to his book, leaning his really warm left cheek onto his clammy palms. 'Please?' Gabriel Shurley whines, 'I just need you to take a picture. It'll only take a minute, then you can go back to your... nerdy stuff.'

'Dude, I'm not gonna help you prank our teachers. I'm not an idiot, and I don't want to risk suspension. Lay off.' Sam scowls, his eyes narrowing. He hopes he sounds threatening enough.

Gabriel Shurley just stares at him, expression unreadable. Then smiles. Sam looks at him suspiciously, trying to figure what he's planning. 'Alright, then!' He stands up and rubs his palms together. The younger boy looks at him bemusedly. Gabriel Shurley flashed him another grin. 'Make sure you're watching this, kid.' He snapped his finger and stalked away. Sam stares idly at the spot where he used to be, then he shook his head and went back to reading.

Though that ended before it started since the second he turns his attention back on his book, he hears a mighty crash, a deafening squeal, and a shutter sound of a camera. He whips his head towards the source of the commotion and was greeted by the sight of Gabriel laughing maniacally, and him incessantly taking photos of this debacle.

He blinks, blinded by the flash and takes a moment to process what was happening before him.

Looks like he did not need Sam's help with his prank, after all. The Boink Zone has been brought down, just like God has cast its wrath upon Sodom and Gomorrah. Books are scattered on the floor, its torn pages are flying everywhere. Sam could hear Mrs. Harvelle having an aneurysm from where he was sitting. Finally, the main attraction: Mr. Armstrong, buck-naked and Ms. Tapping, flushed with sweat and embarrassment. How Gabriel Shurley managed to do this escapes Sam's comprehension. It was very quiet, and the only sound that is being produced is Gabriel small giggles. Sam had to suppress a laugh, as well. ' _Oh, he's going to be in deep shit.'_

' **SHURLEY**!' Both Ms. Tapping and Mrs. Harvelle thundered at the same time, the tone of their voice promised one hell of a punishment for the young prankster. Gabriel Shurley quickly scrambled his stuff and bolted to the library door, still laughing like a crazy person. 'See you on Monday!' He calls out, mocking the teachers further. Then, he left, faster than the wind. His contagious laughter echoed in the halls, making Sam stifle a silent chuckle. He hides his smile beneath his hands while the humiliated teachers hurried to dress themselves, trying to salvage their last shred of decency and dignity (if there is left of it, anyway.)

He was still smiling even though he was cajoled to help clean up the mess Gabriel Shurley made. Until, Mrs. Harvelle comes up to him, looking positively red in the face with anger. 'You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, do you Sam?' Sam gulps. 'No, maam,' he replies, looking at the librarian earnestly.

Mrs. Harvelle scrutinized him for a second and very tightly nods. He goes back with cleaning and sweeping off the floor. Sam left early that day, wondering of Gabriel Shurley and his infectious laugh.

* * *

Sam goes straight to Uncle Bobby's after his time, very interesting time in the library. Bobby Singer is a very close family friend of theirs, although he has no connection whatsoever to the Winchester, he still treats them as if they were his own blood. He's tough, and takes no bullshit from anyone. Uncle Bobby was one of his biggest role models in Sam's life. Though he has no plans in taking over Uncle Bobby's business, doing all those yardwork, and being a mechanic of some sort.

Unlike Dean, anyway.

He opens the familiar, creaky door and the sight of Bobby sleeping welcomes him, making Sam grin instantly. He creeps silently and took a sneaky photo using his phone. Uncle Bobby's hair is greying and mussed, his eyes rolled back into his head, and his mouth hanging open, emitting loud snores. After his little dilly-dally, he decides to take a blanket from one Uncle Bobby's wooden and extremely old cabinets and placed it on top of his body. Who says you can't be nice _and_ naughty?

Sam goes to the backdoor, immediately spotting Dean.

'Hey, jerk,' Sam greets his brother and sits on top of a red, batter Corvette's hood, the action making a ' _thunking'_ sound. He places his small messenger bag behind him.

'Bitch,' Dean replies, head popping out from the underside of the Corvette. The older Winchester looked at him with furrowed brows. 'You been here long?'

Dean Winchester was, if Sam had to say it, very attractive. His hair is clean-cut, sandy blond hair sweeped upwards. His skin, scattered with beauty marks and freckles, is light and fair compared to Sam's sun-kissed complexion. His green eyes are both youthful and intense, complementing his full, heart-shaped mouth. He looks a lot like Mom, although Sam has only seen her face in pictures and could only remember bits and pieces of memories about her. (They were vague and short, but it all Sam has.) Dean has always been the ladies' man. The pretty, mean boy of Lawrence, as someone once dubbed him. He could get all the girls he wanted, really it's no effort- he just have to give them his award-winning smile. But the truth is, Dean has never had a serious relationship. He's 17, but the longest relationship he had was two weeks. Sam guesses it all roots down to Mom dying, and well, Dad.

He really doesn't want to talk about Dad.

'Nah, just got home.' Sam jumped down and crouched to Dean's level. It's crazy how much taller he is compared to his brother. Granted, he was only a year older, but Dean was always the tall, proud one, and he was the crouching, shy younger brother. But now he has surpassed Dean by a couple of inches. Dean was all even angles and muscles, while he was the awkward, gangly one with freakishly long legs.

Not that it helped with his reputation school, anyway. He was bullied for his height, too. At least he isn't called 'fag' anymore. Well, not every day.

'You need help?' Sam asked, silently hoping that he didn't. The last time he helped Dean with his job, he ended up having grease all over him, and a painful ankle sprain. Dean must have been reading his mind, since he shook his head.

'Nope,' Dean was so focused, his arm muscles are shaking with effort. 'Got it.'

'Alright.' He regarded his brother and wondered if this was something he wants to do after school. No offense to his Uncle Bobby, but spending all that time with broken, beaten cars and desperately fixing what's basically useless is not exactly a stable job. Sam just worries for his older brother, that's all.

He talks about life like he has no care for it, and that frustrates Sam so much. He just wants what's best for Dean, just like he does for him. Sam was about to ask him something, maybe to encourage him to think about taking a college course (cause Sam's already settle. He was going to become a lawyer, one way or another.) But was interrupted by Dean looking at him strangely. 'What's up? What's wrong with your face?'

'My face is normal,' Sam glares. 'Your face is... weird.'

Smooth, Sam.

Dean raised his left eyebrow, his whole face tainted with grime and sweat. He must feel like a badass right now, but to Sam, he just looked gross. And, well, dirty.

'Hey, are you going to that party in school?'

Sam blinks. 'You mean, the Winter Formal thing?'

Every year around February, Lawrence High have this annual Winter Formal dance. It's supposed to celebrate Valentine's Day as well. Personally, Sam thinks it's tacky. Additionally, he's not really good at dancing. Sam has never went into these types of thing.

'Yeah, no, not my thing.' Sam picks at his nails. 'You know that, Dean.'

'Yeah, you're weird at these kind of things,' Dean rolls his eyes, 'Seriously, Sammy, why the hell not?' he asks, sounding honestly confused.

'I just don't really like parties,' Sam confessed, shrugging. 'It's not a big deal.'

'Whatever, I'm gonna go. Charm the ladies, you know?' Dean winks, then does an obscene gesture with his fingers. Sam rolls his eyes. 'Plus, Benny and I are pranking that Kevin kid.' Sam perked up.

 _'Pranks, huh_?' he thinks.

'Hey, uh,' Sam starts, immediately regretting it. 'You think Gabriel Shurley's gonna be there?'

Dean narrowed his eyes questionably. Sam can almost see the knobs turning inside his humongous head. Oh, he's never going to live this down. 'Why?' He asks slowly, his tone dripping with suspicion.

'Nothing.' He says quickly. Why did he have to open his stupid mouth?

Dean just stared at his brother, unblinking. Sam stares back, eyes straining. He feels jittery, drumming his fingers against the car hood. Finally, Dean spoke up, 'You got a crush, Samantha?' His voice sound light and teasing, but Sam knows somehow, he meant it.

'Of course not, don't be stupid.' Sam rolls his eyes and looks away.

'Right.' Dean gave him one long look, making the younger Winchester look at him indignantly. Dean shrugs and went back into doing his work


	2. Chapter 2

**GABRIEL**

It's a bright, sunlit morning for a Sunday. It's quiet and peaceful, just like the way Gabriel likes it. Although it was a Sunday, which means his brother, Michael, comes home for lunch and dinner. But there seems to be no Michael with his stupid, scowling face to ruin the cheerful mood in the air. There was only Castiel, silent and stoic, little Cassie. Which was, _wow_ , kind of surprising.

'Hey, Cassie!' Gabriel chirps as he flops on a chair beside his younger brother, Castiel. Castiel Shurley is a bit of a mystery, in Gabriel's honest opinion. He's usually silent, but when he speaks, it comes out hard and harsh. Also, his voice is unusually deep for someone his age, which bums Gabriel out. (He still sounds like a fucking six-year old, sometimes.) Castiel is sixteen, the youngest of the Shurley's. Out of all their brothers, he looks like Dad the most. He got Dad's piercing, ocean blue eyes, the sharp slants of his face reminds Gabriel of Dad so much, and that mess of raven curls he calls hair. His gaze is always intense and he talks all formal and whatnot, but at the same time Castiel is genuine and approachable, though he doesn't look like it. He's mature- actually, too mature for his age. 'What are you doing home? Aren't you supposed to be at church, doing religious shit?'

Castiel gave him a disapproving look. 'Yes, but I requested Father and Michael to be at home for the meantime,' he sighs, clearly not liking the idea that he may be missing out on something at church. Gabriel rolls his eyes. What could he possibly miss out at church that was remotely interesting? 'I needed to finish this project for my class. It was harder than I anticipated. It was a good thing I attended mass.'

'Right, okay, you need help?' Gabriel asks kindly, already picking up materials near Castiel and scooting closer to his baby brother.

'Thank you, Gabriel. Help is much appreciated.' His voice sounds taut but the the older brother saw the grateful look he casted at him.

Gabriel supposes the reason why Castiel had this sort of disposition was because of their Dad. Of course- the main issues of the Shurley household all roots back to Chuck Shurley, Lawrence's only church pastor. He was kind of deadbeat, anyway. Sure, he's there physically but Gabriel never feels his presence as dad. Nope, more like… some god.

Whatever, Gabriel has his own thing, anyway. One more year, and he's definitely gone.

There was a comfortable silence between the two of them, save for the sounds of papers being snipped and markers being capped and uncapped. Gabriel only knows peace like this with Cas, none with his immature, asshole brothers. Gabriel looks at Castiel and grins widely, 'You know I'm glad you're here, bucko, I feel like we don't hang anymore.' he ends his sentence with a dramatic sigh.

'You see me every day at school, we always sit beside each other at the cafeteria when we eat lunch. We're also together before and after school... almost,' Castiel pauses, indicating to the times when Gabriel would commit one of his "harmless" pranks. 'Oh, and we stay and live together in one house.' When Gabriel looks up, Castiel was staring at him witheringly. The older Shurley laughs loudly.

'Right, right,' he chuckles. They stay quiet after, that is until Castiel speaks. 'But you are right, we do not 'hang' like we used to do.'

Gabriel feels guilty. 'Sorry, Cassie, it's just...' he trails off. He has never been good with expressing emotions, not even to his family, not to Castiel. Not to anyone.

But this was his brother. He can trust Castiel.

'Well, school has been shit. I'm doing so badly at well, everything,' he laughs humorlessly. 'It's gonna take a fucking miracle if I could make it past 12th Grade.'

'Gabriel, you should not doubt yourself. You are smarter than you give yourself credit for. I know this because I have seen- and experienced, unfortunately- some of your pranks. It will only take a genius to formulate those.' Castiel admonishes, looking at his older brother with fierce loyalty.

Gabriel beams instantly. Damn, his baby bro really knew what to say. 'Thanks, kid.' he murmurs, smile going impossibly soft.

He stays quiet, his heart feels full. He can feel another smile threatening to break out. He was not used to the feeling. Gabriel clears his throat and speaks, 'Oh, by the way, I need a chaperone for the Winter Formal. I got a big thing I'm planning to pull out.' He looks at his brother, grinning like the devil. Castiel shot him a furious look.

'Gabriel, _no_ , you will not make me an accomplice for your pranks again. Also, you're 17- you are perfectly capable for getting away all by yourself.'

'Yes, but,' he prolongs the word "but", 'It wouldn't be half as fun without you. Plus, you're an excellent getaway driver.'

'The answer is still no.' Castiel replies snootily. Gabriel groans, then stopped, thinking of something that could definitely change his brother's mind. He smirks diabolically.

'Say, Cas,' he looks at his younger brother innocently. 'You know anyone named Dean Winchester?'

Several things happened at once. He dropped the cardboard he was cutting so evenly, while blushing profusely, and dropped the can of Gabriel's Dr. Pepper to the floor. Gabriel snickered as his baby brother rushed to fix the mess and scrubbed the floor clean, avoiding eye contact with him in the process. He feels bad, but it had to be done.

'Yes, he is a classmate of mine,' Castiel answers, voice strained. 'Why do you ask?'

'Oh, nothing. Just, you know, he's very, very handsome, ain't he? I just love those green eyes-'

'Yes, fine, I will chaperone you to the Winter Formal.' the younger Shurley snaps, still avoiding his brother's mocking gaze. Gabriel guffaws and slaps his hand on the table triumphantly, all the while his brother glares at him.

'I hope you are proud of yourself.'

'Oh, I am,' Gabriel beams. 'Sorry, Cassie, it's just so fun teasing you.'

Castiel mumbles something. 'What was that?' Gabriel queries.

'Are you telling Father?' His brother asks quietly, his head hanging low.

'What? Why the hell would I tell Dad?'

'Because,' Castiel's voice cracks. 'Because I like Dean Winchester.'

'Oh. _Oh_.' Gabriel widens his eyes, shocked because of the sudden confession. 'No, Cassie, I won't tell him. You know what he's like...' he says gently, feeling like an ass for blackmailing Castiel like that. Turns out this was such a big deal for him.

It's not like their family was much of a help, anyway. The eldest brother; Michael, aside from being a self-righteous crybaby, is also a big homophobe. He publicly condemns 'the gays' and would openly discuss their 'abnormalities' every chance. Luke, while he barely comes home (Gabriel wonders sometimes if he's dead in a ditch somewhere, but the he remembers that Luke taught him most of the tricks and pranks he knows now and he abandons that worry. Doesn't mean he stopped missing his brother, though), is utterly indifferent to sexualities- but it still hurt when Gabriel came out to him and he just rolled his eyes, not caring. Lastly, their dad, well, doesn't really talk about it. But he doesn't agree, as well. That's why Gabriel never takes his flings at home, whether it's a girl or not.

None of them lasts, anyway. It's all just sex, sex, and more sex.

He's a little jealous of his baby brother, Castiel, who found someone he genuinely likes. He doesn't personally know Dean Winchester but there must be something about him that made Castiel Shurley, who is basically emotionally constipated, have an actual crush on him.

Gabriel continues, 'I'm not a fucking snitch, Castiel. You know our brothers are a great big bag of dicks, but I'm not one of them. So what if you like a guy? It shouldn't have to be a big deal, Cassie.'

'It is for me.' his brother whispers.

He narrows his eyes, confused. 'Well, that's stupid, Cassie. You shouldn't have to apologise for liking guys-'

'I do not like "guys," I like Dean.' he objects.

'Right,' Gabriel stares at his brother, who still won't meet his gaze. 'I promise I won't tell Dad.' he says, finally.

'Thank you, Gabriel,' Castiel says, for the second time today.

'Anytime, nerd.'

* * *

Days come very swiftly, and it's suddenly the night of the Winter Formal. Students, clad in sparkly dresses and fancy suits, are piling on and grinding into each other. He saw two students making out on the bleachers, and was wholly surprised that they haven't been reprimanded yet. The event was more packed than he had originally thought. Which was spectacular, this opportunity is giving him so much advantage. He grins, patting his pants' pockets confidently.

He whips his head toward the windows next to the door, checking to see if his partner-in-crime hasn't bailed. He saw Cas sitting primly behind the wheels, looking bored and serious as per usual.

Gabriel would probably describe the Winter Formal as boring as shit. The decorations were the same ones that are used every year, just recycled and reinvented. The DJ that they picked was shitty, too, and most plausibly cheap. He only plays EDM and remixes of songs that weren't even good. The food were okay, just lacking more sweets and booze. Which by the way, he was very sure that somebody spiked the drinks. Gabriel guesses that somebody had perhaps gotten here before anyone else were, posing as a school staff and putting alcohol into the drinks' containers.

He's glad somebody did spike the drinks, the whole students seemed much more carefree and lively and the school staff were exchanging only suspicious stares, so everything's fine. Which gives him plenty of time to execute his plan. He scans the crowd, looking for a possible coconspirator. Who would be willing enough to join him?

Gabriel spots a familiar mop of brunet hair. _'Huh. The kid from the library. Wonder if he's up for it_?' thought he. He figured the boy may not, since he's a little reluctant the first time he approached him. But the kid seemed to enjoy his shenanigan last week, so he counted him in the list of possible Partner in Crimes.

Next was

His gaze fell to Kali, and his mood dampens instantly. She was dancing with someone, probably some jackass in one of her classes, just to spite him personally. Gabriel balled his fists, and looks away. He's not going to let anyone ruin this day, especially not Kali. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply.

When he opens his eyes, he searches for the counter where they put food and refreshments. Gabriel swaggers toward it, eyeing the drinks thoughtfully.

Gabriel may have seem to miscalculate... something. His head feels woozy and light, and he was having a _little_ trouble talking... and walking... and just standing, in general. His field of vision is blurry and all over the place. Which was strange since he's only drank two cups worth of booze. Maybe five. Also, he sort of downed that bottle of whiskey he illegally smuggled inside the school. Okay, he's drunk and it's bad. It is very bad. If there was still a lick of sobriety in him, he would definitely freak out now. His father was an extreme alcoholic, and there is no way in hell Gabriel would inherit that trait from him.

But he is. An alcoholic. He loves drinking alcohol, and he loves being so drunk that he forgets everything and everyone. So drunk that he is not aware of his actions or his surroundings. So drunk that he is not aware of whose neck he's kissing, or whose hands is fiercely tugging at his hair, or whose erection is poking at his leg.

He grunts and blinks blearily, his head and chest both pounding wildly. But he doesn't stop, instead dedicates his focus on the stranger's tanned, unblemished chest, kissing, sucking, and trailing down to his narrow navel. ' _Whoever this might be, he's got good body, shit_ ,' thought Gabriel dreamily.

It's been too long since he's fooled around with a guy, and doing it again fills him with an inexplicable pleasure. The stranger is compliant and bendy to him, and that sends an exciting thrill that courses through his veins. Gabriel's hand brushes on the boy's naked, beautiful hips, reveling in his perfect body. He doesn't know where they are, or if anyone were watching- but he could not care less. The touch earns him a shiver and hitch of breath, the sound going straight to Gabriel's groin. Finally, he looks up, and the sight of a flushed, sweaty, and _utterly beautiful_ face welcomes him. Gabriel thinks for a moment that he's sort of familiar, and he may have seen him before but the way the stranger's mouth is hanging open, puffs of air escaping his red, swollen lips takes his breath away, all rational leaving just flying out of his head. Gabriel licks his lips and stands up to capture the stranger's mouth with his own, and pulls away, leaving the other boy breathless, his eyes lidded.

His mouth tastes like lemon and vodka. 'What's your name?' he asks, voice full of wonder.

'Seriously?' The pretty stranger stared at him with disbelief, before sighing in disappointment. 'It's Sam.'

'Sam.' Gabriel says the name with fervor and steals a kiss again, leaving the other boy panting. Then, he leans down and places his ear next to the boy's ear, and did an experimental lick. 'I'm gonna make this the best night of your life,' he whispers, voice sultry. This earned a shudder and whimper from Sam.

He goes down, and down, and down. Until pretty Sam is mewling and writhing under him.

* * *

 **DEAN**

Dean was having the worst Winter Formal, which was a first for him.

Firstly, Lisa ditched him. Not just with the dance, but with their relationship, as well. Although he doubts it will last very long since they are known for being an 'on and off' couple, fighting like cats and dogs one minute, and humping like animals the next. But still, the sight of her dancing with some other dude is enough to piss him off. Dean glares at the pair.

Secondly, some dumbass spilled some weird, blue liquid on him and it would not come off even after spending a couple of hours inside the comfort room. He looked like an idiot wearing his coat, _button up,_ to cover the strange stain. He groans for the fifth time that night, reaching for the red Solo cup and filling it with the school drink. God, it's probably some lame, generic juice. He drinks it anyway, and was pleasantly surprised by the slight burn in his throat, and the warmth that pools in his stomach. He eyes the drink carefully, and silently applauded the person who managed to actually spike the drinks. He's got to admit that that was impressive, and how the teachers have not confiscated the beverage – that was impressive, too. He downs the cup and giddily filled it up again.

Dean glances over the clock and he almost drops the cup he's holding. He scans the crowd, looking for Sam, hoping to haul ass and get home as soon as possible or Dad will kill them, then resurrect them just to kill them again. When he didn't spot the brown-haired nerd, he curses and gulped down the spiked drink, crushed the paper cup, and muttered, 'Goddammit, Sammy, where are you?' to himself.

Then, he recognized the blonde tresses of a familiar figure. He almost breathes in a sigh of relief. If anyone would knew Sam's whereabouts, it would be her. He jogged towards her, was disappointed when he didn't saw Sam hanging around with her, and flashed a smug grin to the guy she's talking to, who instantaneously gives him a half-hearted glare. 'Excuse me, may I borrow Jess here a bit? Thanks, man.' He doesn't wait for a response and mildly pulled the girl away from her friends.

'Dean?' Jess blinks at her. 'What's up?' Jessica Moore was a beauty, her golden locks were tied into a neat, lazy bun. Her makeup was scarce, making her face look more natural and fair, and she's wearing a white shirt waist dress, which suits her. On the other hand, she's extremely nice and proper, too. She and Sam have been friends since they were basically babies. Honestly, it baffles Dean on why Sam hadn't asked her out yet.

'Hey Jess, you look smashing, but listen,' He grimaces. 'I can't find Sam. You see him anywhere?'

'No, sorry,' Her forehead creases. 'Have you tried outside? Usually when there are parties, he gets overwhelmed and goes outside for fresh air.'

'Guess I haven't. I'm freaking out. If we don't go home after 10, Dad will get mad.'

'I'll help you look-'

Dean cut her off. 'No, you enjoy the party. Sam is my responsibility.' With that, he dashed outside and wildly yelled, 'Sam? Sammy! Goddammit, Samantha, I'm gonna kick your ass!' With that, he kick a poor can, hitting the wall with a loud thud. He shouted for Sam's name some more, until his voice is scratchy and hoarse. He heaves and fights the urge to cry. 'If anything happens to Sam, it's on me.' He thought to himself, furiously scrubbing his face.

In frustration, he punched the wall. Ignoring the sting, he did it again, and again, and again until blood was gushing freely from his knuckles. 'Fuck!' he whispers.

'Did the wall do anything wrong?' A gruff voice snapped him out of his small breakdown. He jerked his head to the sound of the voice and was startled by the source. A short, raven-haired boy stands before him. He was wearing a casual dress shirt, black pants, and tanned coat that was too big for him. His eyes are strikingly blue – the color of the ocean. Deans knows him – Castiel something. The quiet boy with the bluest eyes he's ever seen. He never says anything, not even with reciting in front of the class. It's the first time he's heard him speak.

'Mind your own fucking business,' he spat and clenched his fist, wincing audibly.

The boy looks like he's about to say something, but he just bows down and takes something from his coat's pocket. He gets a clean cloth from his pockets and hands it into Dean. He eyes the cloth reproachfully and grabs it, feeling guilty for snapping at him like that.

'Thanks. Castiel, right?' He wipes the cloth on his bloodied fists, hissing softly

Castiel seemed surprised that Dean knows his name, but he nods. His eyes stays on Dean on whatever he does, which makes him a little uncomfortable. Dean clears his throat and looks at Castiel again, 'Thanks again, man. Sorry for earlier.' He looks at the dirty cloth, and sheepishly stuffs it into his pockets. 'I'll return this to you, squeaky clean. Scout's honor.'

Castiel nods again, eyes still glued to Dean, never once breaking eye contact. Dean flushes. 'Right, I gotta...'

'If you want to find someone, try the restrooms. My brother has informed me that,' Castiel pauses, cheeks reddening. 'Students often… consummate there.'

 _Why had Dean never thought of that?_ He grins, 'Thanks, Cas!' Then, he hurries back inside the school, leaving the other boy blinking rapidly, and cheeks thoroughly reddened.


	3. Chapter 3

**CASTIEL**

Castiel still remembers the day he first encountered Dean Winchester.

They were classmates since tenth grade and the first time he laid eyes on him, he thought he had the greenest eyes ever, and that he had so many freckles in his face.

He always cut classes and comes in late, but he is very smart and quick-witted. He charmed the girls in class and even though he and Dean never spoke, he always admired his humble personality. They would get paired off sometimes when there are activities but Castiel never spoke to anyone in class, especially when Dean is around. He would get tongue-tied and fidgety even thinking of an ice-breaker of some sort.

Castiel also remembers the time he realised he likes the freckled-cheek boy.

It was in a loud, and boisterous high school party, inside someone else's house, which he did not bother to learn the name of. Gaudy and rowdy mass of people- most of them Castiel is vaguely familiar with but the rest were strangers to him. They looked more like adults than high-schoolers. He remembers feeling small, and mildly irritated. He remembers feeling like he doesn't belong here.

Gabriel had disappeared from his side into God-knows-where. Castiel supposed this is what he gets for humoring Gabriel with another one of his 'elaborate pranks.' He stayed bitter and prissy throughout the party, uncomfortably sitting on top of a lumpy, slightly damp couch and wanting nothing more than the comfort of his own room.

The blast of the speakers made Castiel's ears ring, and he remembers liking the song, if the lyrics were not so… vulgar. His gaze dropped to the people singing along- or rather, screaming along- to the song, their faces flushed and beaded with sweat, their dancing uncoordinated.

Castiel sighed, sipping the alcohol-spiked punch he had been nursing ever since he entered this house, cringing at the aftertaste. He then realized it is probably unwise to drink something when he doesn't know what it contains, especially when Gabriel is concerned. He poured the content of the red Dixie cup to the sink, and settled the cup gingerly on the kitchen counter.

He walked across the room, dodging the sways of drunken pubescent teens and sits on a very foamy and suspiciously wet couch. He breathed, frustrated, scanning the rooms for any signs of a golden haired, five-foot-five male that is his brother. Giving up, he pulled out his black iPhone and sent a prompt SMS to his idiot brother.

' _Gabriel,_

 _I will be going home, now. It is Friday tomorrow and I have an essay to finish. I trust that you are capable of going home on your own? Stay safe._

 _Your brother,_

 _Castiel'_

Castiel pocketed his phone and scanned the room again, hoping he would spot Gabriel somewhere so he could tell that to him directly. Still nothing. He sighed, and was about to stand up and leave when a boy suddenly sat on the couch.

Dropped ungraciously was a better term.

The boy, who Castiel instantly recognises as Dean, grunted as he slumped on the couch, spilling beer anywhere. He closed his eyes, his long eyelashes brushing the skin under his eyes. Castiel made a small noise of distress when Dean dropped the can of beer he was holding entirely onto Cas's shirt. Dean's eyes shot up, and he looked at Castiel and his alcohol-stained shirt with groggy confusion before widening his eyes, 'Oh, shit.'

Dean immediately stood up and went to the bathroom, and Castiel thought he was left alone with his clothes stank with cheap beer. He huffed and stood up, more than willing to ditch Gabriel and go home when Dean came back from bathroom, holding a roll of tissues and a box of wet wipes. 'Dude, sit down!' He tugged at Castiel's pullover.

He blinked at Dean as he tried to undo his drunken mess. After five minutes of Dean dabbing the wet napkins aggressively on the stain in his knitted sweater, sometimes missing since his movements are erratic and very clearly drunk and with Castiel just looking at the sandy-coloured haired boy in silence, he finally stopped wiping Castiel's now slightly damp clothes and nodded, 'Should be fine, right?'

'Right,' Castiel agreed.

Dean looked at him in the eyes, his eyes droopy. Castiel responded with the barest smile. They sat there for awhile, just staring at each other when Dean seemed to snap out of his stupor and smiled dopily at the shorter boy. 'You have really blue eyes,' he murmurs. Castiel flushed, but never broke eye contact. "Thank you." he whispers back.

Dean coughed and looked away, fiddling at his napkins. Castiel's eyes followed his every movement. He watched him stumble with his words until, 'Well, I gotta dash. My brother's probably freaking out at home.'

Castiel nodded. 'Yes, I have to go too. Homework.'

'Right, of course,' Dean nodded, 'Yeah. Um, see you around?'

'Bye, Dean.' Dean practically lit up. Castiel smiles again, for the second time that night.

Castiel exited that deafening and massive house in a daze, a miniscule smile still ever present. He cannot believe he just had a conversation with the Dean Winchester.

Dean was… well, how could anyone not know who Dean Winchester is and not like him? He's charismatic and charming, although he doesn't seem to take his studies that seriously (but who is Castiel to judge? They very well don't know each other.) He stands up to bullies, no matter the consequences. Castiel wished his conversation with Dean had lasted much longer but fate had other plans.

Now here he is, standing dumbstruck and staring stupidly at nothing. Dean had just left to go find his brother, Sam and he had called him ' _Cas_.'

Castiel fixes his scarf, covering the silly smile on his face. He was about to go back inside the building when Gabriel, half-naked and hair tousled bursts through from the front door. Castiel gapes as his older brother declares hurriedly, 'We have to go _now_!'

He nods and rushed towards the car, fumbling with the keys before unlocking it and slumping on the driver's seat, Gabriel following him close by who is strangely anxious. Castiel side-eyes him warily as he starts the ignition of the car, the sound of the revved-up engine of his father's Mark V coupe fills his ears. Gabriel looks… different. He doesn't have the usual lazy grin on his face, just strangely reserved. He didn't bother asking what's wrong— Gabriel would tell him anyway, whether Castiel liked it or not.

Instead, he just drives and thinks about Dean Winchester. For the nth time today.

 **SAM**

Sam was lying on the floor, half-naked and clearly passed out when he was woken by a clearly furious Dean. He opens his eyes, which is weirdly sticky – had he been crying? – and looks up. 'Dean?' he mumbles, confused.

'Mind explaining why you're pissed and half-naked on the men's room?' His older brother emphasises the last word, pointedly crossing his arms. Sam groans, and rubs his tired eyes, his mouth feels dry and strangely… bitter? He tries to process what Dean had just said, and wait, half-naked? He sits up in a jolt, and looks at himself. He's only wearing his black boxers, and his suit jacket is half past his shoulders.o Suddenly, Dean throws something at his face. Sam grumbles, and removes the offending thing from his face, discovering that it was his trousers. He glared at his brother, who looks positively fuming. He gets dressed quickly, and prepares himself for a litany of curses and reprimand from Dean.

'—I mean, what were you thinking, running off to God-knows-where without, I don't know, letting me know so I don't worry like a–'

'Yes, Dean,' He sighs, tuning out most of Dean's bitch fit. He looks at himself at the dirty mirror and was surprised by his reflection. His hair, who Mrs. Tran his neighbour, spent _hours_ taming his head of mane has gone back to being unruly and stubbornly sticking out of place. His lips are tinged red and suspiciously swollen. What the hell happened? Then, he notices it. Sam widens his eyes as he lifts his unbuttoned shirt and sees the litters of bruises on his collarbone.

'—like what the hell, Sam.' He pauses all of a sudden and slits his eyes at his younger brother. 'Hang on, is that-' Dean tugs Sam closer, and almost rips off his shirt in the process.

Sam gaped in response. 'Dean, what the _hell–'_

'Hickeys!' Dean laughed, surprise etched in his face. Sam faces the mirror again, examining the marks accentuating not only his clavicle but also all over his chest. He tries to remember who gave them but he's too exhausted to form any coherent thought.

'Well, I'll be damned,' Dean states, something akin to pride lacing the tone of his voice. 'My baby brother, gettin' freaky.'

'Okay,' Sam smiles sarcastically, although his ears are burning red with embarrassment. He's still struggling to remember who gave… these to him, but all he can recall are hands. Hands everywhere, roaming on his hips, and legs, and a tongue– tongue that lapped every inch of his skin, licking and tasting. He shivers at the memory, heat spreading throughout his body.

'C'mon, let's go, this place smells like sex.' Sam's head snaps at that. Shit, he definitely remembers what happened now. He can remember the flashing strobe lights and having too much of the weird, fruity drink (now thinking about, he should have known it was actually alcohol. Dammit.) and getting too close with some other guy—

He just had sex with a guy. Sam remembers being tipsy and dragging someone to the lavatory, he remembers getting the best (and only) blowjob of his life, and well…

He blushes.

Sam is still reeling as Dean says, 'Gotta say, making out during Winter Formal? Classic.' Dean snickers at him. 'Who's the lucky gal?'

Crap.

'It's Eileen.' He blurts out the first girl he can think of. Shit, he's gonna have to talk to her about that.

Dean hums, and by the way his brows are raised knowingly, Sam has a feeling that this isn't the last time he's hearing about this.

Sam sighs.


End file.
